


Laughter Lines

by kirschtrash



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, Mistletoes, POV Jean Kirstein, Satire, like hella fluff, pure fluffy fluff, take on a fan art piece by thechosenchu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirschtrash/pseuds/kirschtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really hate Christmas; like, any holiday.</p><p>I can only hope that my best-friend with the freckles and perfect laughter lines can turn it around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter Lines

_**Laughter Lines.** _

 

I really _hate_ Christmas.

I hate any kind of holiday, really.

 _Why_ , you might ask? Because then you’re shoved in to Reiner’s house, where he throws this party with some shitty beer that everyone seems to love, to _‘celebrate the festivities the holiday has to offer’_ , as Reiner put it himself. I’d rather barf.

Okay, calling Reiner’s house a _house_ is a huge understatement, given that his house is a fucking mansion; like those typical magazine-cover mansions, with the white-washed walls, carved pillars, and huge windows for the countless rooms inside it.

Like that, I try to count the good things in this hang-out we’re having. The plan is like so: since it is Christmas break in our college, Reiner would pick us all from our respective houses in his 60 VW Camper van on the 24th, and from there we would go to his house. There we would stay and spend our time till Christmas.

By _us_ , I mean the following; Connie, Sasha, Ymir, Christa, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Annie, me and Marco.

I am the last to be picked up, as I wait outside my house. I’m surprised it hasn’t snowed yet, given the insane temperature drop. It’s fucking cold, and the extra sweaters and a thick jacket over it all doesn’t do shit to give me some semblance of heat. I rub my numb fingers together; blowing at them to _please be warm please don’t turn in to icicles_. The red beanie on my head won’t do shit either ( _surprise_ ) given the fact that my ears could be thawed off – they’re so fucking cold.

I pull it down, over my ears, breathing a sigh. Cold puffs of clouds come out of my mouth. I look at them, swirling and swirling, until they dissolve in the atmosphere up above.

Just as I stare at them, everything seems so quiet and peaceful, it feels almost like a dream; a dream I didn’t want to wake up from;

Until I heard the obnoxious honking of Reiner’s ride.

_Oh no._

I chance a glance at the corner of the street, and just as my nightmares predict, there was Reiner’s rainbow-colored van, with the words “L.O.V.E” and “ _PEACE OUT_ ” on its sides, with a hastily erased “ _motherfucker_ ” on the hood. I’m going to hurl.

It screeches to a halt right in front of my toes, him still honking that godforsaken horn because he knows it fucking ticks me off.

My permanent scowl, accompanied by the death glare I’m giving, must have finally got to him, for he finally stops, a smirk still playing on his face; that fucker. I breathe a sigh of relief, as Connie sticks out his bald head from the window of the front seat, wearing these extra-large ear-muffs.

“Hop on, Jeanbo! Let’s all have a merry Christmas!” he says, with such enthusiasm he must have left a scorch mark or something. It was accompanied by Sasha whooping with joy.

I fight over the two options with myself: a) Run the _fuck_ for the hills; or b) Oblige and go with my ridiculous friends.

I had to choose the latter.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride back consists of old and forgotten Christmas carols sung so horribly that my ears might have fallen off. I stay huddled up in my seat way at the back, squished between the window and Marco, on my left. But even my far-away position won’t block out the god-awful voices of Sasha, Connie and Reiner.

But I’m thankful to be sitting next to Marco; he’s the only one guy that is sane within our group, and I love spending time with the guy. You can talk to him about anything, because he’ll never keep you bored. He’s full of energy and just plain old _good_ ; something really hard to find these days. We know each other so well, and we’re comfortable around each other. You can say he’s one of the good things I’m counting for this trip.

“So, not so keen, are you?” he asks, cocking his head at me.

I might as well been an open book; anyone could have read the utter discontent I am showing. It’s a bad habit. Sue me.

“ _Meh_ ,” I shrug, turning to him and saying, “I was never really fond of holidays anyway.”

“Since Santa became a fake?” he asks, pouting.

I laugh and nod, saying, “Yep, ever since then.”

He laughs, and I laugh as well, as we share a chuckle there. At that point I notice how the deep red plaid he wore accentuates the flush over his cheeks, dusted with a fuck-ton of freckles, his fist coming to cover his mouth – a habit he has; a really silly but cute one. His eyes are closed. I note the crinkle of lines at the corner of his eyes – his _laughter lines._

Who knew how good they could look on someone?

I note I’ve been staring at him for too long, so I cough awkwardly, and turn away. I look outside the window, and damn the scenery might as well have been a goddamn painting; the sky was all the right mixes of blue and yellow, the colors swirling around each other, the white clouds scattered across the canvas. The Sun was a small circle, dimmed by clouds. The road we took was high up, so I could see the lake, and how it shimmered like a sea of diamonds, rippling to and fro. As I look at the scenery, I fall in to my thoughts.

I’ve been fighting other wars in me too; like how about the fact that you _don’t stare at your best-friend’s laughter lines and freckles for nothing_. I know I’m gay, and I know he is too, so that much is comfortable around us. But the real question is this; am I gay for him, though?

I like him for being sane, mannerly, and sensible. He has little quirky habits like never laughing too loud, hiding his smile behind his hand every time he laughs, and just being happy about literally everything. He radiates positivity. Anyone having a shitty day could feel happy around him. Not to mention his eyes and _oh god his freckles-_

 _Woah, Kirschtein. Stop right there._            

Maybe this war is one-sided. I don’t even know anymore.

I abandon the thought and continue staring at the sky as we venture towards Reiner-land, the carols now muted to me. _Yay_.

Along the way, I feel warmer than before. Maybe it’s because of the van’s heater, or maybe Marco’s heat next to me, who was humming along to the carols.

I know what _I_ wanted, to be honest.

 

* * *

 

 

Thank any of the gods that sit in Heaven, for we have finally reached his house.

I’m the first to barge out of the cramped van, greedily breathing the cold, fresh air outside. I’ve got the bad case of the cramps in my legs, and I think my right arm fell asleep.

Rubbing it back to life, I turn around to see others file out of the van. I’m surprised to see so many guys being able to fit in the van, without the case of suffocation. Reiner orders a worker at his house to transport the bags in the guestroom they have. Reiner never showed off his wealth, which is why I consider him as a good guy.

I note Marco stepping out – the last, _of course_ , - buttoning his black coat over his plaid shirt, and dusting it as well. He smiles when he sees me, and I swear to god my heart was doing somersaults in my rib cage. I try returning the smile – if it weren’t for my mouth muscles being numbed by the fucking cold. He approaches me, and together we march towards Reiner’s house.

From the open doors, you could see the carpeted halls, huge stairways and fancy lights twinkling in and around the house, celebrating Christmas.

Bertholdt – Reiner’s boyfriend – greets them outside the doors. Reiner runs up to him and twirls him in the air, obviously ecstatic to see him again. Bert cries out, growing a beet red, but he still ducked and pecked him lovingly on the lips.

Reiner drops him down, and motions the others to follow him inside. Somehow I and Marco had been trailing behind the group, who are now deciding what they want to eat – well actually, what ‘ _Sasha_ ’ wanted to eat, specifically – while me and Marco just peacefully walked.

His presence is enough for me; although talking to him was hella fun, you didn’t want to talk all the time around him. Knowing that hey, he’s beside you and hey look he’s smiling softly next to you shows that he is fine with just staying quiet too.

I look at him a little, seeing his eyes glinting with content, cheeks flushed a little in the cold, his freckles standing out and I notice some on the edge of his lips and god that soft smile of his is so – so…

It’s so beautiful. _He’s_ so beautiful. There’s no other way to describe him.

My eyes linger at his smile, his lips, and his eyes for too long, but I can’t pull away.

The war in me is tipping a little on one side.

He decides at the exact moment to turn and talk to me, because now we are face to face and _oh my god our noses are almost touching oh god is this even happening-_

I try to keep some distance, I try to pull away, I try to look anywhere else, but oh god his big, honest brown eyes are so captivating I can’t look anywhere else.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t even back off. He’s looking at me too, at my eyes, a little bit of surprise on his face as his eye-brows shift a little upwards. At that moment, time seemed to stop. I wasn’t paying heed to the guys ahead of me; I wasn’t paying heed to anything.

All I can think of is how his lips would feel on mine.

Being this close to me, and seeing him not moving either, his gravity was so strong that I could feel myself leaning a little in him and-

“Hey, Marco!”

Marco had to turn to that, being the angel he is, facing Connie, who was the fucking idiot who called him.

I puff my cheeks a little in frustration because Connie had to ruin a perfectly good moment between me and Marco and I swear to god none of my friends want a good moment in my life. I feel even more flustered because wow I bet I was as red as a tomato because that did not just happen. It felt as if a slice of Heaven was taken away from me.

I make a mental note to myself to kill Connie in his sleep, clean the blood later on and dumping his body somewhere in the woods, saying that he had to leave early. _No one would ever know._

“We’re planning on getting pizza, how much would be enough?” he asks, of course not noticing me glaring daggers at him.

“Oh,” he says a little sheepishly. He smiles and walks towards them, “Um, let’s see…”

I’m not moving, because I’m still imagining what could have been if Connie hadn’t called.

What could have happened if the interruption didn’t come; would we have kissed? Would he… _kiss back?_

By the time I snap back in to reality, Marco had already made his way towards the door. He had stopped, only to beckon me inside. He says, “Jean! C’mon already, you don’t wanna freeze your ass, do you?” Then his face lights up in this amazing smile with perfectly straight teeth.

I notice his laughter lines too.

Laughing along, I enter the place anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

We make our way towards the guestroom – that is the size of a fucking house on its own, I swear to god. Bert helped the workers to set up the room with cushions, bean bags, all in a semi circle around the plasma-screen TV against the wall. Not to mention the newest edition of the Xbox is there too, with some four or so controllers that Reiner was plugging in.

We nestle ourselves on the comfy bean bags and sofas, and chat a little. Sasha was gone with Connie to order some pizza for us, and so we wait once it’ll come. The one cup of some black and bitter coffee – much like me, to be honest – wasn’t enough, clearly, as my stomach continues to rumble.

Marco sits directly opposite to me, on a deep purple bean-bag. He’s talking to Armin about something – most probably science, not kidding – and as I listen to Connie’s unlocked level in Call of Duty, I find myself glancing at Marco a lot. He’s deep in the bag, and his long-ass legs were splayed in front of him. He always had the advantage of being taller than me, that goober. He laughs at something Armin says, and once again I catch that amazing smile of his.

Before he could see me watching him, I turn my head to Connie, who still didn’t shut up about his game. I think I might have caught him glancing at me too, at times.

Once the pizza boxes finally arrived, we attack it, filling our empty stomachs greedily. Sasha was practically inhaling them all, but that’s why we had ordered some extra boxes – _that woman knew how to eat._

We then decided to play Call of Duty on the Xbox, dividing in to four players – Connie, me, Eren and Reiner, while the others enjoyed our game. We were slaying the enemy, throwing some grenades and shooting them all till they died. This was definitely my thing.

I sit near Marco’s bean-bag (yes, _purposely. Sue me_ ), as he keeps on yelling and exclaiming in surprise whenever the enemy would make a surprise attack. Of course I kill ‘em all, without a scratch to my figure.

“God, Jean, you’re good at this.” he says, gasping as I throw a grenade at the incoming swarm of bad guys.

As the grenade blew off and killed all the fuckers, I turn and say, “Well, someone has to save Connie from blowing himself up.”

“I heard that, Jean!”

We giggle a little, as Marco playfully nudges me with his feet. I try not to lose concentration on the game; otherwise my heart was pulling off some acrobatic shit against my rib cage.

 

* * *

 

 

We kept on playing until our backs hurt from crouching too low. I don’t even know how long we spent like that, until the sunlight that streamed inside the room started to dim, until it was no more. I stretched a little and craned my neck to look at the time. It was 10 PM. _Woah._

Everyone was yawning by the time Reiner shut the game. Sasha had managed to pass out on the couch, snoring softly.

“We better sleep now, the real party’s gonna start tomorrow.” Reiner says, as he throws a blanket on Sasha, who grumbled a little.

So that way, we start assembling our sleeping bags on the floor, while Bert worked on lighting the hearth. The fire crackled merrily, heating the room considerably well. Almost everyone had passed out the second they splayed their bags, the sounds of soft snores and grumbles audible in the room.

I was never a heavy sleeper. I just close my eyes and dose off for an hour or two and then I’d wake up feeling hella fresh. (Okay being grumpy was a part of the Jean-lifestyle but I ain’t complaining.)

By the time my eyes felt heavy, almost everyone was fast asleep, while I was still on the edge of it; not too sleepy, but then not too awake either.

I shift from one side to the other and that won’t do shit to give me sleep. As I shift on my left side, I see Marco sleeping so soundly, with both his hands tucked under his cheek, which was flat against his sleeping bag. His eye-lashes brushed against his cheeks, and I swear to god the light from the fire illuminated all the goddamn freckles he has and he has so many in all the right places.

He slept so peacefully, with a small smile at his lips. He mumbled something, and then sighed through his nose. It was too cute.

His face reminded me of the thing we had when we arrived here. God, it was so amazing and yet terrifying, because I never got to know what he would have done. What would he have done? Would he kiss me back? Or would he just freak out?

All these horrible _what if’_ s and _would have’_ s really fuck with my brain, so I choose to look at his face. Somehow, it calms me. He can calm me, and I don’t even know how, or why. Well, the why is pretty fucking obvious, don’t you think?

I find myself counting his freckles unconsciously from afar, as I fall asleep slowly.

* * *

 

 

I wake up as the sharp rays of light fucking blind me. I groan and rub my eyes, sitting up. Everyone was waking up, some stretching and yawning from a good night’s rest. I rub my sore back, and stretch a bit more, only to find Connie positively beaming at the door:

“IT’S CHRISTMAS! AND THAT’S NOT ALL!” He pointed at the window nearest to me. I tried looking out.

 Except that I could see nothing other than white;

“It’s snowing!” Sasha exclaimed for me.

“Oh my god, everyone suit up, we are about to have some fun!” Ymir cackled, already wearing her sweater again.

We started piling ourselves with warm clothes, gloves and scarves, and made our way outside the house. Marco, always the enthusiastic one when it comes to snowfall, forgets to put on a goddamn scarf. It was always this way; he’d be excited about something, and then I’d have to give it to him, after which he would awkwardly rub the back of his neck, where a flush would appear.

How come I noticed all that now?

Shaking the thought, we race to the gardens behind the house that was now blanketed in complete white by the time we came out. It was still snowing lightly, as Christa and Ymir were spinning happily in the snow, and Armin was trying to catch some snowflakes in his mouth.

Dude, even _Annie_ was _smiling_ as she looked up. Like, that’s a big feat in itself.

Then Eren decided to launch a snowball at my face. I splutter in surprise, and was fucking about to take him down, until Reiner did it for me; he launched this huge snowball right at his face, sending him down.

Then _oh no_ ; Mikasa came to save his Prince Charming by fucking chasing Reiner all around the garden, not until he had enough snow down his shirt. Seeing a relatively short girl chasing a humongous man was all too comical for me; you can say I was laughing my ass off.

That was, until Ymir pummels a snowball at me. I splutter again, and make one huge snowball and aim it right at her face, while she was laughing. This time she was the one to splutter, and I ran for the bushes before she could recover and end me.

Consequently, _Marco_ was hiding behind the same bush. He was crouching, and I noticed his shoulders were shaking with laughter, his face absolutely pink.

“What the hell, Marco?” I ask.

He peeks from his fingers, and I swear to god he looks so goddamn cute.

He breathes, and then says, “I threw a snowball at Annie, and I blamed it on Connie and now-“then he began laughing his ass off again. His laugh was so contagious, I found myself laughing with him, surprisingly.

He scrambles on his knees, peeking from above the edge of the brittle leaves. He beckons me to follow his sight. As I did, now I see what he was pointing at, grinning like a maniac:

There was Annie with a death glare, chasing Connie around the whole goddamn garden, while Connie continued running with his arms flailing like a headless chicken, all the while shouting, “ _oh_ _shit oh shit oh fucking shit I didn’t do it Annie I swear-“_

Then Annie launched this snowball right at Connie’s head, which must have been as hard has a rock, because Connie was sent reeling on his face, right in the snow. But she didn’t stop there; she continued pummeling him in the snow with these really hard-ass looking snowballs, and only left him until he was under a good few feet of snow.

Marco and I slowly looked at each other, and then we were laughing both our asses off. We lay in the snow, clutching our stomachs, trying hard not to die of laughter, or shortness of breath. When I turn to my side, I see Marco without covering his mouth, this time laughing loudly and without any restraint; he seems so much more alive and wild like this. He looks so amazing this way, as his face lit up with mirth, his brown eyes a little watery, snow clinging at his dark eye-lashes, some even catching at his laughter lines.

There I notice we were almost nose-to-nose in the snow, and I could have stayed like that forever, if it weren’t for the shuffling behind Marco-

“ _SURPRISE, JEANBO_!” Sasha screamed, as she threw these huge snowballs at me. Gladly, I ducked them in time. I took the ones Marco made, and threw them at Sasha. One hit her right at her nose, but it didn’t faze her; she was cackling as she threw another, then another, and then some.

I dodged some – and some hit me just where she wanted them – but Marco intervened at the right time.

He took the snowballs he made as well, and together we pummeled Sasha away from us; two against one.

She put up a brave fight, let me tell you, but of course her end was inevitable; when her ammo finished, she ran for the fucking hills.

“Well, wasn’t that exhilarating?” Marco says happily, standing up to dust his beige-colored coat from the snow that had clung to it.

“Oh, I’ll say.” I say as well, laughing at the memory of Sasha running away. Fucking _classic_ , I tell you.

He laughs as well, a slight puff of breath from between his lips, already tired from laughing so much. Then a breeze blew from behind him, ruffling his dark hair, flapping over his forehead. He turned and shivers a little, and that’s where I give him _the look_ for a good long while.

“Uh, Jean, why are you looking at me like tha-“

I didn’t let him complete the sentence, because I chose to wrap the red scarf around his neck myself. He yelped a little in surprise, and lost his balance as I tugged it unconsciously.

_Oh my god._

Now he was practically _millimeters_ away from my face, our noses almost touching. He had that same surprised face he had earlier, except now it was a little calmer, more comfortable.

“Why-“

I cut him off once more, saying, “You f-forgot your scarf again.” I stutter a little, as I actually notice tiny freckles that were scattered at the edges of his eyes, so insignificant; but I’m able to make them out just fine, given the utter lack of space between us.

I smile a little, as I say, “Besides, I don’t w-want you to freeze your ass this time.” Fuck, I stutter a lot when I’m nervous.

He laughed so softly at that; just another puff of breath from his teeth, bared at the moment. His beautiful, brown eyes crinkled again at the corners. Fuck, those laughter lines are going to be the death of me, I swear to god.

He stopped laughing, when he noticed me just staring at him with only one thought in my mind:

_Fuck, when did I fall so hard for him?_

Once again, time seemed to have stopped; nothing else mattered except his eyes, his blushing cheeks, scattered with freckles, his nose almost touching mine, his lips with small freckles bordering the corners. I lean a little and his eyes trail on my lips and his eyes were half lidded and I closed mine as I leaned a little more, already catching his minty scent on my lips and-

A snowball interrupts my Heaven. I literally turned my head a full 180 fucking degrees to see the culprit.

I narrowed my eyes.

There was Eren fucking Jaeger; smiling so fucking _smugly_ as he piled some more in his hands, clumping them together. He, Mikasa and Armin sat in front of a snow-fort, shielding the oncoming attacks from the trio of Annie, Reiner and Bert on the opposite end.

I was really about to take him down, if it weren’t for more snow being smeared on my face. This time when I swipe my face - uttering a whole string of fucks - I notice this time it was Marco, who rubbed it on me. He was laughing again; softly, not as loudly as he did behind the bush. There was still a blush on his cheeks from the moment a few seconds ago.

“Catch me if you can!” he screams, as he runs towards the opposite direction.

I stay there for a second. Once again, I am left with the prospect of _what if_ ; what if we were never interrupted? What if we kissed?

_What if he had kissed back?_

But I chose not to be this selfish and mope in misery, because just as much as I wanted to kiss and feel how his lips would feel like against mine, I loved the merry laugh he had that sounds like a thousand symphonies ringing together _way more._

I hold on to that, as I run after him, laughing and pummeling him with snowballs.

I ignore my revenge on Eren for a while. Besides, Reiner had covered that for me, as he aimed one at him when he wasn’t looking.

 

* * *

 

 

 After we slay each other with the snow, we clean ourselves up. Reiner promised we would go and spend some time (and money) in the Trost Mall to get ourselves some gifts. We all huddle up inside Reiner’s rainbow camper van, and drive off to the mall.

There, we fuck around every shop we could find – which actually meant taking weird selfies and posting them on Snapchat – and did so until our stomachs rumbled. We entered the food court, where we chose to wolf down some amazing burgers and fries.

Then we entered a gift shop where we all bought something for us as a Christmas present. Everyone bought what they wanted; a cool hat, or a mobile-phone cover, or even a goddamn pair of fuzzy socks (They’re fuzzy, therefore they’re freakin’ amazing, Christa had said). Marco bought this really ugly sweater with these horrible sequins over the red-nose of Rudolph the red-nosed Reindeer, whose big-ass face was sewn on to the front.

Although it looked horrendous, with its really icky green color clashing oh-so fucking horribly with the red, I don’t even know how on Earth he could look so attractive in it, when he tried it on. I mean, that guy’s got some real charm in him. Damn.

I wanted to mimic him a bit because hell yeah I can, and so I as well chose a not-so ugly sweater, with brown, black and red intricate designs all over it. The one other reason I brought it was because it had the words “ _Merry Christmas ya filthy animal_ ” written on it in cursive writing and frankly, it spoke to me on a spiritual level.

After we purchased our items and make way for home, I catch myself always glancing at Marco, who was walking next to me, his left hand clutching the plastic bag he had. He’s laughing at a lame prank that Sasha and Ymir were pulling on Connie, but I’m not giving a damn about them.

All I could think was how goddamn perfect Marco looked in his ugly-sweater.

 

* * *

 

 

It was almost night-time when we reach the house, and as we dumped our shopping bags down – me and Marco hastily wearing our sweaters along – Sasha guides us in the kitchen to help her make her very “ _super-duper hot chocolate_ ” for all of us.

I swear I was never made for cooking, but at least I got to see how expertly Marco can weigh the exact amounts of cocoa and milk and all that shit.

Of course I most definitely was _not_ staring at Marco’s deft hands as they gripped the weighing machine tightly with the little freckles dusting his knuckles and I wonder how soft his hands may be if they were tracing my cheeks and-

 _Don’t do this to yourself,_ I assure myself.

But I can’t even come to peel my eyes away from his soft smile as he silently works on weighing the ingredients for Sasha.

_I need help._

*

Once we’ve made our kick-ass hot chocolates, we sit by the humongous Christmas tree that is beautifully decorated with shiny balls hanging on branches and shimmery gold-and-silver decorations that tie the whole thing together. Not to mention the crystalline angel that stood on the very top of the tree.

We gather around it on the floor, and share funny stories of times long gone and memories soon-to-be-faded with age. I never actually cared about my almost-non-existent childhood, but when I’m here with all my friends, everyone sharing their stories fondly, I find myself laughing and sharing some of mine too.

Marco intervenes too, and he shares his own childhood times with us. I find everyone laughing along with him, and so was I, clutching my stomach as I try not to die of laughter. He used to be a silly-ass kid, let me tell you that.

When I wipe my eyes tiredly, I see him gasping for breath, flushed in this pretty pink, but what’s more is that he is staring right at me and nothing else.

His eyes are glimmering with tears of mirth, but underneath it I see – I feel – so much more; this light, happy, perfect feeling swirling within the deep brown color of his eyes, radiating this loving feeling, as if… as if…

He is feeling those for me.

All at once the tidal wave of _“what ifs_ ” come crashing in to me, making butterflies flutter in my stomach and my heart fucking jumping here and there against my rib cage. I’m suddenly a little too aware of how close we are and oh my god our knees are touching and he’s still staring at me and if I lean a little I can finally catch his lips within mine and what if he kisses back-

I stop.

The same fucking _“what if”_ , which won’t ever happen within my league; damn it, _he’s_ out of my league.

_Why would he want me?_

I’m suddenly overwhelmed by even more butterflies in my stomach accompanied by this horrible empty weight in my chest that isn’t doing the situation any fucking good and oh god I really need a breather.

I mumble some excuse about going to the bathroom and immediately get up to run for the exit. I entered the hallway – with walls lit up with colorful little lights – and got to the bathroom that is downstairs. I actually didn’t have to go to the bathroom but it beats staring at Marco and just thinking of how badly I fell for him.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to expel all the damned “what ifs”. I splash my face with water, trying to wash away thee weird-ass feelings, but they don’t go. They won’t go. Damn it, I wasn’t made for feelings.

I grudgingly leave the bathroom and climb the stairs slowly. But I don’t enter the room just yet; I can’t bear to stay with Marco at the moment, because I’m afraid what I’d do and not do.

I lean against the railing that shows the lower floor. I lean both my arms and press my chin on the fabric of my sweater. I let out a deep, pent-up sigh.

I mean, in those vomit-inducing pretentious movies, you see that having a crush is something pretty; it’s the sneaky glances in hallways, it’s the secret letters, it’s the stolen kisses under the rain; it’s this perfect feeling of happiness.

I don’t feel any of that.

I feel an electric jolt when Marco’s hands brush with mine, I feel like melting when his gaze meets mine, I feel light-headed when he talks and his laugh makes me want to fly. I so desperately want to kiss him and feel his lips, but then I was terrified. His gravity is so fucking strong that I’m afraid I’ll fall even harder than before.

That’s what I’m afraid of; falling for him too hard, too fast, too soon.

I don’t even know if he even likes me back.

I sigh loudly again, thinking, this fucking stinks.

Until a hand jolts me back to reality.

I yelp in surprise, turning around so fucking fast I pop something in my shoulder. I turn around to see Marco, also surprised to see my sudden and fucking scary reaction.

I sigh again, happy it isn’t some mass murdered trying to kill me.

“ _Jeez, Marco_ ,” I say, “You fucking scared me!”

“I – I’m sorry! It’s just you weren’t coming back for some time, I figured something was wrong…” he answers.

Oh god, he was actually worrying for me. Fuck my life, I swear.

“You care too much, Marco.”

“Well, I’m sorta hardwired like that.”

“ _Hmph._ ”

“You seemed really off today, Jean…”

I look further away, trying really hard not to look at him because I know that if I did look at him I would really really _really_ want to kiss him and I don’t want to fuck up that bad. Not yet, anyway.

“You know you can talk to me, Jean.”

He said it so fucking softly I could have melted. I desperately try not to imagine his lips mouthing my name in the most perfect way possible without making any mistake; he’s flawless that way. He’s just fucking flawless.

I sigh again. Fuck, I’m sighing a lot today.

“I –it’s nothing. Just, I don’t know how to put it all out, yknow-“ I turn to look at him, but he isn’t actually looking.

He’s actually as red as a fucking tomato, worry lines over his forehead. He has shut his lips in a tight line, and I really can’t read his expression at all.

“Uh, Marco…?” I ask tentatively.

“Uh ha ha ha, just a little, uh, s-surprise…” he said sheepishly, blushing possibly even more, pointing his finger above.

I trail his finger, and my eyes fell open, my mouth agape:

There was the devil in my dreams; a fucking mistletoe, dangling real fucking suggestively, that fucker. I should have known Reiner had those nasty little things around.

And it was under _us._

_Oh god._

I look at him and he’s still red and so am I and oh god this can’t be happening please no-

“L-look Marco I –I don’t know any of this and Oh god I d-“

But I didn’t get to say my sentence;

Because my lips mere blocked by Marco’s.

He was kissing me.

_Oh my god._

I couldn’t even think because his lips were on mine and they were so goddamn soft and he slightly moved them against mine and oh my fucking god I think I’m gonna burn up-

He left my lips just as soon as he landed on them, his warm hands on my shoulders.

Let me tell you I was still fucking _dazed._

But he was looking down, he was still blushing, and his expression was really off; like he was ashamed of doing that.

He slowly shook his head, and then turned, saying, “I- I’m sorry, I’ll just go-“

His voice sounded so sad and just not Marco-like. Suddenly I was really angry that Marco feels this way. He doesn’t deserve it.

Besides, I can’t take it any longer.

“I’m r-really sorry, Jean-“

I didn’t let him speak. I didn’t want him to.

I firmly pressed my lips against his, inducing this adorable squeak out of him, that just made me smile against his lips. He slowly eased against me, moving his lips, timing his movements with mine. My hands were on his chest, as his hands traced the back of my neck. I swear electric shocks jolted through me, as I sighed softly.

When we had kissed long enough, we parted slowly, steadily, not wanting to yet leave. Our foreheads leaned against the other, our warm breaths fanning between us.

His eyes were still closed, the littlest of smiles playing on his lips. I kissed the tip of his nose, making him giggle, which made me feel giddy too. He opened his eyes, and oh god they were so perfect, so beautiful, little freckles around them.

I lean again to catch his lips hungrily, except for the giggling noises I could hear.

And the damned _“oh my gosh, I can’t even”._

I look up, to see the bald face of Connie fucking Springer, with the smug face of Eren fucking Jaeger.

_Oh my god. Please no. This day moment was going perfect, please no-_

“GOTCHA, JEANBO!” Eren shouted, while the other douche-bags upstairs started laughing, while Reiner and Sasha were hooting. Christa was the one who said, “I can’t even” and at the moment she was watching with googly eyes and oh god I was done because they were the ones who held the freakin’ mistletoe.

“You’ll get it from me, Jaeger!” I shout, getting the message across him really well.

“Oh, I’ll hold on to it, Kirschtein!” he answers, laughing.

I shake my head, laughing too. I was feeling too giddy to actually care that yeah this is a really embarrassing moment.

But Marco is laughing too, that same loud, happy laughter that makes my legs go jelly.

There I stare at him and just look at how happy he seems; he’s literally glowing with happiness, his eyes slightly closed, his freckles flushed under his adorable blush, his laughter lines so beautiful I can’t get enough of him ever.

I only stare at his laughter lines. Those laughter lines; _god_.

“I really love your laughter lines…” I whisper really dumbly, tracing my fingertips softly over the crinkled lines on his left eye. Marco scrunches his nose a little, and then laughs softly at what I said.

“I really love your smile.” Marco says, and please let me marry this person.

I lean his forehead with mine, and sigh. He asks softly, “So, you’re okay with this- this thing- we’re h-having- _oomph_ ”

Once again, I did not let him speak. I wanted him. _Him_.

I threw myself to him, circling my arms around his neck and locking them tightly, kissing him passionately, mumbling a ‘yes’ on his lips, like a silent promise.

He laughs at my sudden vigor, but returned all the love with the same amount of affection. He wove his arms tightly around my waist, lifting me on my tip-toes. I took advantage of his open-mouthed laughs, his chocolaty breath soft and sweet against mine. He tasted so good; sweet like chocolate and so addicting. I kissed him even more, one kiss turning in to two, then two in to three and I lost count by then.

I didn’t care whether the other guys were looking, or taking photos or anything. I didn’t give a fuck.

All I could think of, and all I could smell, taste, feel; was Marco.

 

* * *

 

 

Yeah, I sort of remember saying that I don’t like Christmas.

But I don’t think I can hate the festive holiday anymore.

 

* * *

 

[Here's the photo-set on which this story is based on.](http://thechosenchu.tumblr.com/post/105986162175/jean-just-really-wants-to-kiss-his-bf-best) and [here's the tumblr](http://captaink-irschtein.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Got a writer's block? Write a really fluffy one-shot and you're good to go!
> 
> This photo-set was so cute I had to do this. Let me know in the reviews how it was! I like feedback :3


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